Where I'm From
by The WeyrWoman
Summary: An American Mafioso gets talking to a random civilian on a plane. Oneshot Songfic to 'Where I'm from' by Jason Michael Carroll. Rated 'T' just to be safe. My first songfic. Also, I still need someone to check it over.


I sigh, quietly, brushing at an imaginary piece of dust off of the front of my indigo shirt- which symbolizes my mist-attribute flames, not that anyone here is likely to realize that. I shift a little, still not comfortable in this high-dollar outfit- silk shirt, Armani suit, rather pricey shoes. I'd rather be dressed like the young man next to me- comfortable jeans and boots. Hell, if appearance is so important, I could simply use my flames to create the illusion of a nice suit while dressing comfortably. But no, Boss insisted that I actually wear the suit. Well, at least he didn't make me pay for it. And the shirt's not bad, although I'm not sure that advertising the color of my flames is a great idea, but the Vongola started it, and as a subordinate famiglia, Boss decided that we should imitate them. We're pretty high, I suppose, for being only three generations old, compared to the ten of some of the famiglias- the Vongola, for instance- and imitation can't hurt, I suppose.

_On a three hour flight from Memphis to LA  
I was silently celebrating my first class upgrade  
Laughing at my jeans and my boots  
Beside those high dollar shoes and Armani suits_

Glancing at my watch, I notice that there's still at least two hours till we're to L.A., so I turn to the guy next to me, in his enviable jeans and boots, and comment, "The drinks up here are free. So, if you'd like, the first one can be on me." I smile, and trying to start a conversation with this man, I comment, "I'm headin' back from business in New York and Rome." Yeah, business. New York was meeting up with the bosses and guardians of other allied famiglias based in America, and then in Rome all of the allied famiglias got together for the annual meeting, to discuss strategies, minor disputes with rival famiglias, and whatnot. Anyways, "Tell me, son," Oops, hadn't meant to call him son, and he really isn't all _that _much younger than me. Except his eyes- I'd be willing to bet the only real violence he's ever seen was on the television. Except, there is a glint there, that spoke of a strong resolution. "Where do you call home?"

_When the gentleman next to me said the drinks up here are free  
So if you'd like the first one can be on me  
He said I'm headin' back from business in New York and Rome  
Tell me, son, where do you call home?_

He just smirks at me, and with only the barest touch of defensiveness in his voice, replies, "I'm from the front pew of a wooden white church, a courthouse clock that still don't work, where a man's word means everything. Where moms and dads were high school flings, gave their children grandmother's maiden name. Yes, it may not sound like much but it's where I'm from." I smile a bit, internally, for two reasons. First, he never actually told me where he was from, which is probably a good thing. Telling some guy you just met on the plane where you live isn't the brightest thing to do.

_I said I'm from the front pew of a wooden white church  
A courthouse clock that still don't work  
Where a man's word means everything  
Where moms and dads were high school flings  
Gave their children grandmother's maiden name  
Yes, it may not sound like much but it's where I'm from_

We kept drinking, finishing that first round, and then having another. Our conversation covered just about everything, and from the view of a typical civilian, it probably _did_ cover everything. But, due to some skillful manipulation on my part, we never covered what _exactly_ I did for 'business'. I gave him some vague, generic answer, and he let it go. I tell him, "I headed out west when I was only nineteen. Just a kid, chasing my dreams."

_So we drank that round and then another  
There wasn't a topic in this world we did not cover  
He said I headed out west when I was barely nineteen  
Just a kid chasing my dreams_

I lapse into a memory then, remembering, just a kid suddenly in a big city, trying to be somebody, my sense of justice making me but in when I happened to glance down an alleyway where some hulking man in ripped, torn clothing was threatening with a gun a six- or seven- year old in rather nice clothing. Idiot that I am, I ran up and tried to tackle the big guy. He went over, yeah, but all I did was distract him for a few minutes and get a bullet in my arm for my trouble.

However, I did distract him for long enough- more guys with guns showed up, and encircle the kid with their backs towards him, as if protecting him. They kill- Kill!- the guy that threatened the kid, and then turn on me. The talk to themselves as I take off my over shirt, rip a strip off the hem, and rip the rest in half, bunching it up into to wads and using the strip to tie one wad on the wound where the bullet went in, and the other on the side where it came out. They- the new guys with guns- come over to me, but not all of them- when I glance over, some of them seem to be shielding the boy from me, or maybe me from the boy. One man looks me right in the eye, "Thank you for saving this boy of the blood of the Tacere Famiglia. Unfortunately, you have now seen and know too much." He raises his gun, a regretful look on his face, and I panic inside, but somehow, my voice stays relatively steady, projecting an illusion of calmness, "I won't tell anyone anything! I don't even know anyone from around here. I'll move!"

My protests don't do much, if anything; however, the boy speaks up for the first time, his voice far more commanding then I'd have thought possible, "Stop." The men pause and turn to him, and the ones shielding move to the side so he has- or maybe so I have?- a clear line of sight. The boy continues, "See his resolve, his flame? He is strong, new to this world and thus not loyal to another Famiglia, he protected me at his own peril for no reward, and he is strong. My uncle still needs a Mist guardian, and this man caries not only a strong mist flame, but lightning and rain flames as well, albeit weaker." I just blink, having no idea what this guy is talking about. The men look at each other, sigh, and one blindfolds me. I'm silent as they gently guide me into what seems like a car, freaking out inside but restraining it.

In the end, I did end up being the Mist guardian- which is, coincidentally the reason I'm on this flight. My wife knows, but I never did tell my parents or anyone else from back home. The man sitting next to me on the flight interrupts my flashback when he replies with the reason he's here on this flight. "I'm flying out here to pick up my big brother; he's been fighting the cancer they discovered. But he called last night and said, 'I think this is the end, so come take me home to my family and my friends.'"

_And I said I'm flying out here to pick up my big brother  
He's been fighting the cancer they discovered  
But he called last night and said I think this is the end  
So come take me home to my family and my friends_

I nod, empathetic. I've felt death before- granted, not from cancer, from injuries prevalently. Still. He's not done yet, though, and he continues- still with what he brother said, I think, "' Where the quarterback dates the homecoming queen, the trucks are Ford and the tractors green, and Amazing Grace is what we sing. Where there's a county fair every fall, and your friends are there no matter when you call. Yeah, it may not sound like much but it's where I'm from.'" I don't hide my entire smile this time, letting a small part show through.

_Where the quarterback dates the homecoming queen  
The trucks are Ford and the tractors green  
And Amazing Grace is what we sing  
Where there's a county fair every fall  
And your friends are there no matter when you call  
Yeah, it may not sound like much but it's where I'm from_

Shortly after that, the flight attendant goes around, waking those that have fallen asleep, and telling everyone to finish their drinks, fold up their trays, and put their seats up. Over the P.A. come the same commands, and a final command to buckle up. We disembark, and when we're waiting for the bags we checked, I tell him more about myself then I've told anyone not in the Tacere Famiglia. "I will pray for your brother." He blinks at me- I probably don't seem like the religious type, but when you're in church for something like 60 services a year, or possibly more, for 19 years, some habits are ingrained. I don't make it to church as often now, but I do pray regularly, and definitely still believe.

"And did I mention that Italian suits haven't always been my style?" Actually, they still aren't 'my style', but I can act like they are. Half of wearing a good suit is looking like you feel comfortable in it, after all. "See, I was the quarterback of my high school team. We took state back in '63." Well, honestly, that's not the real year I was on the team when we took state, but I look older than I am, and people tend to underestimate you if they think you seem old. "And my wife, well, she's still my homecoming queen." She, on the other hand, still looks younger than she is- we're the same age, but I look practically old enough to be her father! Still, just thinking of her makes a smile grow on my face.

_And as we stood to claim the bags we checked  
He said I'll pray for your brother and did I mention that  
Italian suits haven't always been my style?_

_See, I was the quarterback of my high school team  
We took state back in '63  
And my wife, well, she's still my homecoming queen_

"'Cause I'm from the front pew of a wooden white church, a courthouse clock that still don't work, where a man's word means everything." And actually, that last part is still true even now. The one thing you can trust in this world is the word of the other members of your Famiglia. You trust them with your life, and they trust you with theirs, after all. If that trust is broken by not keeping your word, can the others still trust you to watch their backs? And if you can't trust them, can they trust you? And if one cog in the machine that is the Famiglia is thrown so completely out of whack, the whole machine has issues. "Where moms and dads were high school flings, gave their children grandmother's maiden name. Yes, it may not sound like much," We start heading for the doors, having collected our bags, and a loud horn honking from just outside interrupts me.

_'Cause I'm from the front pew of a wooden white church  
A courthouse clock, it still don't work  
Where a man's word means everything_

_Where moms and dads were high school flings  
Gave their children grandmother's maiden name  
Yes, it may not sound like much_

I continue, after the horn quiets, "I said, it may not sound like much, but it's where I'm from. " I grin good-naturedly as I repeat his words back to him. "It's where I'm from." He's gob smacked, but he pulls himself together quickly. I give him a business card, "Here, if you're ever in the area again, or if you just feel like talking." I concentrate for a moment to place an illusion to replace the 'Mafioso della Tacere Famiglia' with 'businessman' and my true contact information with false information to anyone other than this man, and to him as well if he reacts badly at first glance. I then place an illusion over myself as soon as he glances down at it, so that he can't see me. Getting a bit tired- I have a few too many illusions up- I head off homeward to visit my loving wife, who moved out here with me after high school, and who took my becoming a Mafioso in stride. I murmur once more to myself, as I pass a quartet singing 'Amazing Grace,' "It's where I'm from."

_I said it may not sound like much but it's where I'm from_

_It's where I'm from  
It's where I'm from_

FIN

A/N: This is a songfic, as you can see, to the song 'Where I'm From' by Jason Michael Carroll. It's set in the KHR verse of Mafia and Flames and whatnot, yes. However, it doesn't actually use any of the characters or settings. It's simply a random mafioso who grew up a normal kid talking to this guy he meets on the plane. If anyone notices any mistakes or issues, please, tell me. :)


End file.
